by Amy Lignor
"Don't use that word." I shook my head.
She rolled her eyes. "When Matt heard about that 'poor boy who simply got caught up in a fantasy,'" she said, her face growing as stern as an angry nun, "a fantasy that made him so obsessed he could have actually killed you because he was NUTS! That's when Matt's face took on that shadow; he moved into the role of protector in an instant, and he didn't even know you then. It was like something inside him said, 'THIS is the woman and no one will give her a moment's grief now that I've found her.'"
I shook my head.
"After only three days I'm SURE this guy knows you're as tough as they come, but he was STILL looking at you downstairs like he didn't want to let you out of his sight. He watches you, and not in the overheated 'male' way," she said, sticking out her tongue and looking disgusted. "Matt looked at you like you were his wife."
I choked on the wine. "Can we please stop talking about this? You're just in a romantic place right now, Nicole. You have to remember that this guy doesn't even know me."
"Then LET him!" Her command practically rattled the house. "What's so wrong with that? You're not harboring a lost love; the only reason you're even off-the-market is because you chose your career over anything else. Look around! The career is going just fine, and you're allowed to have BOTH. Why not concentrate on yourself for a while?"
She turned around and headed for the open door. "I need a shower."
As always I just watched her. No matter what Nicole had to say, the minute she was done making HER point there was never time for a counterattack. There was no yielding to anyone else. When Nic was off the floor, the floor was officially closed.
The little body kicked off the big heels and shrunk into the size of an ankle-biter, which she was, and turned at the door. "Oh, and speaking of children. You with Amber, you with the kids at the library, they love you, Beth. They look up to you and you give them everything a perfect Mom would give. Plus, bitch," she said with a grin. "You bake cookies and stuff, which is just wrong."
I laughed out loud.
"I mean, seriously. They'd have a Mom who looked amazing in black leather, knew every song on the charts, every great movie that's ever been made and could head-bang with the best of them. You could also teach them more than any high school/college combo on the planet. AND they would get cookies. Who knows?" She winked. "Maybe Matt is just the right man to be the 'Hot Dad' to your 'Cool Mom.'" Looking me up and down, she sighed. "I have to say, you're talking about some seriously pretty kids, no matter which parent they take after."
Staring at the closed door, I knew Nicole was right about one thing. I wasn't one of those who had a horrible breakup, or sat around pining for a love long lost. I'd simply watched the best marriages occur in my own family, so I'd already made up my mind long ago that if it wasn't on their level, I didn't want it.
Leaning back, I stared out the big picture window at the silver moon highlighting the alcove where the small beach sat hidden. Nic was also right about Matt. If he had even one-tenth of the emotion for being a father as he'd portrayed when he read that script, then he would be a fantastic one in real life.
I sighed. He did deserve that, and the wonderful wife to go with it, but we were not the right couple. And all I had to do was keep that in mind at all times, and convince him to go back to the city and wait for opening night. Then he could fly straight back to California…and his life.
~ His ~
I was turning into a prune. I'd been sitting in the water forever trying to concentrate on the next album, the next script…but it didn't help. Beth was so deep in my mind, her face was the only thing I saw.
I called Chance and listened to my crew in the background talking about sports, L.A., who was 'seen,' where they went and all that stuff we yap about.
The hot water in the bathtub was scalding; I was trying anything to get my mind off the only thing I wanted to do—get up, go across the hall and take Beth into my arms. I wouldn't even consider Nicole, since she didn't consider me when she broke in on our night at just the wrong time. I wouldn't talk about it. I would bring Beth back here to finish what I know would've begun if Fate had just granted me two seconds more.
It was so juvenile being this impatient, but it wasn't about sex. I really wanted to start so that Beth and I could start living the life I wanted with her. Hell, I didn't even know I had been waiting for her. I mean, I write songs about needing that woman—someone who would understand and be there at the end of the night knowing MY name. But I'm still young. I mean, I can date for a decade at least before really needing that romantic scenario that everyone wants but simply laughs off because it's only true in books and up on the screen.
But I knew, I just knew that Beth and I would be the perfect couple in every way. From the support we'd give each other to the love and pride we'd take in one another…she had that light—that beacon that draws me in like she's the core that will give me the future I want to lead and the family I want to build. And I would never have to give up the career because she'd be the one to help, love and push me even more. For some reason I knew Beth understood me inside and out, and seemed to accept me warts and all, as my mom would say.
"Christ!" I yelled out before throwing my head under the water. This was so frustrating! Beth fit no stereotypes; she could jump from one place to another so fast I couldn't keep up, and then I could look at her over dinner and see this big heart and her full attention resting only on me—like there was no one else on the planet except the two of us.
I do love a conundrum, but this was ridiculous.
Twenty
~ Hers ~
The scent was what forced me to get up. Coffee, the substance that could chase everything away and help a person regroup, was filling my nostrils. There were way worse things I could be addicted to, so caffeine wasn't too bad in the big scheme of things.
I looked over at Nicole lying spread-eagle on the bed. I could've throttled her in that moment for having the nerve to keep me up all night, only to then fall asleep at dawn and take my bed. But she looked like a small child, as if she'd fallen asleep while making her angel in the snow. I made a note to tell Ken when I met him that he best buy a very large bed, considering this tiny thing loved to hog every bit of it.
Standing up, I shuffled to the shower. Changing into my Sunday best—my shorts and sweatshirt representing the team that just HAD to win on the court today, or I would have to listen to Bobby yap the rest of the afternoon that he was right and I was wrong—I walked past the dresser, picked up Nicole's sunglasses and put them on. The light was just too damn bright for these tired eyes, but I needed that coffee more than air.
As I got to the foot of the stairs I turned the corner to see a trio of very good looking and very awake men sitting around the table, enjoying their Sunday morning rituals. The newspaper had been passed out. In Matt's hand, the sports section was open. Chris was staring down at the Times fashion section pointing out everything that was completely wrong when it came to the Dior line, and Bobby was reading the comics, smiling at the words of people whose job it was to make everyone's official day-off entertaining.
I wanted to moan, groan and throw waffles at all the well-rested bastards, but when I appeared, Chris looked up and offered me a sympathetic gaze. "Oh, honey. How much did you drink?"
I plopped myself down on the empty chair across from him and let loose a sort of grunt. "Not drinking."
Patting me on the back, Chris rose and went to the coffee pot to bring me back a truly amazing gift.
I took a sip. "Bless you, my son. May your camel never have the trots."
He chuckled, as Bobby leaned over and—in the loudest voice possible—announced his beloved team would destroy mine before the day was out.
I raised a finger to his lips. "Shhhh."
He patted my head. "Nope. Not my fault you drank like a sailor." He glanced over at Matt. "You must hold your liquor better, aye?"
Matt grinned. "We didn't even finish a bottle of
wine between us."
Bobby's eyebrows rose up his forehead and then he turned back to me.
Ah…sweet revenge. I took the sunglasses off and felt the smile slowly spread across my face; a prelude to the total destruction that I was about to unleash on Bobby's happy Sunday. "This is a completely different kind of hangover, my love. Guess who's here?"
His eyes grew wide as he looked back and forth between me and a now chuckling Matt. His voice grew to a cold, frightened whisper, "No."
"Yup.".
"She is NOT here."
"I beg to differ."
His voice immediately turned into a high-pitched whine. "But it's game day. Why is she here on game day?"
Chris leaned in. "I told you there was a strange car in your driveway last night."
Bobby's head sunk into the crook of his elbow.
"So, buddy," I continued, feeling suddenly very awake and alive. "Even if your shit-ass, pathetic little team does win today, and I DO have to give you a check because you win the bet, I have a feeling your day will be far worse than mine. And, honestly, it's worth it to lose just to see your face right now." An evil giggle erupted from my throat that I was extremely proud of, as I watched Chris and Matt laugh and pat the back of the suddenly poor young man in their midst.
I noticed how close Matt's tone was to Bobby's. "She came in last night. During dinner."
Bobby raised his head.
"At a very nice point during dinner."
Bobby squinted as if he'd suddenly received a sharp pain in his side. "Oh, man."
"Yeah."
I maintained my smile so that Bobby knew I had won this particular round, and went to the counter.
Getting out various things from the cabinets, Chris was the first one to speak, as the other two seemed to be commiserating over some tragic accident.
"Whatcha doin?" Chris sidled up behind me and whispered in my ear, "You're evil, you know."
"I know," I whispered back. "But I also feel like whistling a happy tune."
He put his arms around me and squeezed. "I really love you."
"Right back at ya, kid." I took out the spoons and bowls, setting up my space like I always did.
"What are you making?"
"Your chocolate chip cookies."
His eyes grew wide and he clapped his hands. "Seriously? I thought you were kidding."
I turned around and grinned. "I have a feeling that sports day is not exactly your favorite thing."
Chris rolled his eyes. "Not really, no."
"But I know that you'll be hanging here because it's a 'Bobby' thing to do." I leaned back. "Call me crazy, but for some reason I think you two are already dealing with the differences…and enjoying them."
"Crazy," Chris said, blushing a bit as he sent a glance to the handsome man who was now practically crying in his coffee as he explained to Matt how loud this day was about to become. "I suppose we are. Besides, it's just a basketball game." Chris smiled. "How bad could it be?"
"BETH!" Nicole's high-voltage voice carried from upstairs. "Is Bobby down there?! I NEED to ask him a question."
Bobby's groan was loud as he looked longingly at the front door.
"He's down here, Nic!" I replied quickly.
Watching his face turn into something that resembled a killer on CSI, I smiled cheerfully. "I got her last night. Today, she's all yours."
"I despise you."
I turned back to the cookie dough. "By the way, she's in love."
"What?"
Chris clapped again. "Yay! Cookies and romance." He kissed me on the cheek. "This might be better than I thought."
~ His ~
Even with a 'Nicole' hangover—which had to be far tougher than anything Jack Daniels could supply—the woman couldn't look bad.
When Beth walked around the corner, shades on, hair disheveled, as if she'd just gotten done with a six-hour love fest (no, wait, get that part out of your head!) I still caught my breath when she walked in. Her tan, smooth legs were uncovered; Beth was adorned only by a pair of running shorts and a matching t-shirt that bore her team's colors, which was a bit too big and fell down one shoulder, letting me know that the shirt was the only thing that stood between me and a picture of paradise.
Her movements were fluid, even though she looked so tired that I wanted to wrap her in my arms and go lay down on the couch; the perfect game day of cheering for my team (the opposite of hers; I was on Bobby's side), and then—during the lulls in the action—spooning up beside her on the couch and taking a warm, much needed nap while I was surrounded by the scent of lavender. I was practically giddy. I wanted to start a new Sunday tradition…with her.
I almost laughed at Bobby's response to Nicole's presence, seeing as that she'd burst my bubble less than twelve hours ago. I wasn't sure yet why Nicole was such a close friend with Beth; they seemed so different, but there was a friendship there that ran far deeper than an author/agent relationship based on swapping notes and royalty checks.
When I finally forced myself to exhale, I watched Beth with Chris, as if he was the adoptive son and she was Mom—patting him on the head, making him cookies. She was trying to give him a good day, and I was so in love with that trait. The checklist that I'd never noticed inside my head before was now filled with every attribute Beth possessed.
When Nicole's voice resounded, Bobby actually reached out and grabbed my shoulder, as if I could somehow save him from what was about to come. Chris and Beth remained at the counter, whispering like kids, laughing at the men folk who were about to receive far more than they ever wanted.
Nicole swept down the stairs in what, I suppose, was her own version of Sunday 'casual' clothing. Her black pantsuit was pressed, her heels were beyond high and the black hair was perfectly placed in barrettes that were struggling to hold on tight. For a woman who'd stayed up at least half the night, Nicole looked like she'd just stepped off an elevator coming from a business meeting where she'd mopped the floor with everyone.
Her eyes grew wide. "Bobby! I CALLED you!"
He groaned. "I thought those were your dulcet tones coming from above. It really is like having an angel in the house, you know."
She smirked. "Very funny. Did Beth TELL you?"
Studying the chair before sitting, Nicole looked for any stray spot of dust that would mar the pristine black outfit. Finally sitting, she smiled at Bobby.
"You're in love, I hear?" Bobby said.
The blush was quick. "I am, thank you very much, and you HAVE to meet him."
"Why me?"
"Well, you and Beth BOTH have to meet him."
Bobby's eyes grew wide and suddenly sparkled with happiness. "Is he on his way here now? Is he coming to pick you up and bring you back to the city?"
I tried to hide my laugher at the hopeful tone.
She patted him on the hand. "No. I'm going back to meet him."
"Now?"
"No," she said, her lip curling just a bit. "Later."
Bobby looked crestfallen. "Oh."
She grinned. "You all yap about this Sunday game crap, I figured I'd hang out and see what all the fuss was about."
Chris walked over and touched Nicole's shoulder making her jump, and kissed her cheek. "Hello. Nice to see you again."
Nicole's smile was immediate. I really wished I could figure out what magical potion Chris used to get women to just fall in love with him automatically.
"Hello, back. How are you, Christopher?"
He grinned. "A lovely, well-dressed woman—another beautiful lady making ME cookies—this is a banner day."
Nicole looked past him at Beth's back. "You were SUPPOSED to wait for me to make the cookies," she huffed. "I told you I wanted to learn."
Beth turned around and looked her up and down. "You can't wear that outfit."
"Why not?"
Beth raised her flour-covered hands.
"What is THAT?"
"Cookies are made out of dough, dear."
"Oh." Nicole looked
down at her shiny pants. "Well…I'll just watch from here. I'm sure I can learn the same amount. Besides," she continued, with a slightly teasing grin. "I think everyone can agree that you look really good in a kitchen. I wouldn't want to spoil the view."
"She looks good in every room." The mumble came out before I could stop it.
Nicole glanced at me and offered me one of the kindest smiles I'd ever seen from the lady, as if she were suddenly on 'Team Matt.'
"Yes, she does, doesn't she? Beth can dress in absolute rags and still look like a shiny present under the Christmas tree."
I watched Beth study her. I could almost see a little demon appear in those deep, brown eyes as she reached for a handful of flour. Nicole continued to gaze at me, as Beth slowly moved forward. Just as she raised her hand above Nicole's jet black hair, the woman turned and received a fistful of flour directly in the face.
Jumping up, Nicole yelled, "Oh, my God. Do you KNOW how much this cost?"
"Just wanted you to be able to look good in the kitchen, too." Beth smiled wide, as Nicole turned and raced back upstairs.
Bobby put his hand in the air for the high five. "Okay, that was an upside to the day."
"Wasn't it?" Beth laughed. "Oh, she brought a keg with her—it's in her trunk."
The tirade continued from above as Bobby walked to Nicole's handbag resting on the counter, took out her huge keychain—one that would've made the warden of Alcatraz envious—and walked to the door. "I say the sooner we tap it the less I'll remember when she speaks."
Beth chuckled. "Alcohol makes her louder."
I had to interrupt. "That's impossible."
Holding one hand in the air, Beth crossed her chest with the other. "I swear to God."
Twenty-One
~ Hers ~
"Your team blows!"